Stress Relief
by likecominghome
Summary: Lydia is tense after a horrible day and Stiles knows the perfect way to loosen her up.


The hard pounding of a fist upon a wooden door echoed through the empty hallways of the apartment building, but Lydia couldn't care less if her aggressive knocking disturbed the neighbors. She was enraged beyond belief and in desperate need of someone to rant to about her dismal day, so the amount of noise she was making was the least of her concerns.

Just as her knuckles started to become sore, the heavy door was pulled open, revealing the confused figure of her best friend. Stiles scrunched his eyebrows together as he pushed the door wider, allowing her entrance without question because despite her mood, it wasn't unusual for her to show up at his place unannounced. She stomped across the threshold, her stiletto heels clacking on the hardwood floors as she tossed her overly full purse on the granite kitchen countertop and began to pace.

"Hello to you too," Stiles said sarcastically as he shut the door and crossed his arms over his chest, "What's wrong?"

"I've just had the worst day in the recorded history of bad days," she began, clenching and unclenching her fists in hopes of relieving the tension pulling every muscle in her body, her nails digging into her palms, "My boss has got to be the biggest asshole on the planet. He treats me like a piece of meat, doesn't take any of my ideas seriously, and thinks I'm just some pretty face he can keep around for his amusement. I swear, if he ogles me one more time I'm going to punch someone."

Stiles jutted out his bottom lip as he raised his hands to adjust the navy beanie currently covering his dark, messy locks. His black fringe poked out from beneath the knit material, his brown eyes sparkling with sympathy as he responded. "I'm sorry, Lyd. Do you want me to go beat him up?"

Lydia held in a laugh, feeling instantly happier at the thought of Stiles coming to blows with anyone. Her best friend was many things, but tough enough to participate in a brawl was not one of them. Perhaps the size of his biceps, taut and muscular from years of drumming, could be seen as intimidating, but she also knew Stiles had a heart of gold and the soul of a puppy and would see violence as an absolute last resort, despite his tendency to make verbal threats.

"It's alright," she replied, shaking her head and slowly unclenching her fists, wincing when she glanced down at her hands to see small crescents embedded into her palms. "I'm just hyped up and I need to relieve all this tension."

"Anything I could do to help?" he asked, shoving his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

The neckline of the gray sweatshirt pulled down, revealing his tanned, toned chest and emphasizing his lack of shirt. He had probably been walking around shirtless because he actually preferred minimal clothing – a preference she never complained about because his body was certainly a sight to behold – but had pulled on the hooded sweatshirt before answering the door to give the appearance of being presentable. His sweatpants hung loosely from his hips, the bottoms almost entirely enveloping his bare feet. As always, Stiles looked like sex.

Poking her tongue between her teeth, she wet her bottom lip as she stared at him pointedly, her gaze slowly scanning up his body as she allowed her smile to widen. Without speaking, she was conveying exactly what she desired: him, in the most primal and physical sense.

Shrugging, he unzipped his hoodie, pulling it off his shoulders and tossing it to the ground to reveal the rest of his tanned torso. "Ok, why not."

Raising her eyebrows in delight, she shrugged off her blazer and tossed it to the side before taking two steps forward and pressing her lips to Stiles's.

To any innocent bystander, their interaction would seem confusing and complex. True, Stiles was her best friend and she knew becoming physically involved with a friend generally put a strain on the relationship, but theirs was different, because they both knew that no matter how their relationship played out, they would always be a part of each other's lives. So they might as well enjoy it while they could.

After finally growing tired of untrustworthy partners, they had slept together the first time out of sexual frustration. Yet, out of that one night of experimentation blossomed an entirely new type of relationship. Seeing as she told Stiles her deepest desires, it meant he knew how to work her body until she was at the brink of pleasure, a sensation she decided she could not live without.

Thus, they came up with the pact: they would use each other's bodies as tools to satisfy their sexual cravings. Absolutely no romantic emotions involved.

Weaving her fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck with one hand, she used her free hand to tug off his beanie and discard it to the floor and reveal the rest of his messy hair. Their lips pressed forcefully together, their mouths moving in practiced sync as they clung to each other.

Stiles's wide palms gripped her hips roughly, squeezing tightly before he applied pressure to turn her around. Her back hit the door, causing her to groan against his lips as he pressed her firmly against the hard wooden door. One leg was slipped between her knees, his sturdy thigh holding her hips against the door as his fingers curled around the buttons of her shirt, simultaneously pulling it from her skirt as he ripped it open.

The clattering of buttons hitting wood echoed through the room as his hands proceeded to free her breasts from the lace confines of her bra, cupping them eagerly, the straps hanging off her shoulders. His lips moved from theirs, his head dipping and she tilted theirs to the side to allow him access to her neck, his mouth pressing hard to the hollow above her collarbone. Her breathing became shallow as her hands flattened against his waist, her fingers dipping beneath the waist band of his sweatpants and boxers, lifting the material and sliding it over the curve of his backside until it dropped to his knees, leaving his length fully exposed and pressed against her bare stomach.

The feeling of him, hot and thick against her skin caused a sharp, warm ache to develop in her core. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, the backs of his hands pushing the black silk upwards to her hips until her underwear was visible. She felt him smirk against her skin as he reached down and pressed the pad of his middle finger to her center and began to rub slow circles against her lace underwear.

Her lips parted and she let out a gasp at the pressure, her body immediately aching for more direct contact. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she tugged roughly. "For fuck's sake, Stiles. Stop teasing me."

Bright laughter filled the air as his index finger hooked into the bottom of her underwear and tugged the black lace swiftly down her legs. The bottom of his shaft brushed against her entrance and she groaned as she sucked hard on the tense skin at his neck.

Humming at the feel of her lips on his skin, he reached down to position himself correctly before rolling his hips upward and pushing in to the hilt. She moaned as she pressed her lips to the base of his throat, rolling her hips against him as she found a steady rhythm.

It still amazed her how well Stiles could anticipate her desires. With each thrust, friction developed, leaving her core burning and aching for more as the sounds of her shallow breathing filled the air. His palm flattened against her outer thigh, his fingers curling beneath to lift her leg to his hip, varying the angle and allowing him to thrust deeper.

She hitched her knee higher on his waist, locking her to the length of his body as her heel dug into the back of his thigh. His other hand mimicked his previous action with the leg planted on the floor and her legs were soon wrapped around his waist as she clung to his shoulders, the pads of her fingers digging deeply into his back as she kicked off her shoes, the black pumps sent clattering to the floor.

He pushed her more firmly against the wood, the pace of his hip movements quickening as every thrust sent her sliding slightly higher on the door. With each precise movement, he seemed to find her most sensitive spot, driving into her so deep she could feel him in the pit of her stomach.

She loved the way he looked when they were having sex, his brow furrowed deeply, his tongue poking between his lips as focused on his movements to ensure she was getting as much out of it as he was, the expression of extreme concentration on his face only broken when he leaned in every so often to kiss her sloppily on the lips.

Her walls began to clench around him and she squeezed her thighs around his waist as she dug her nails into his shoulder blades and increased her hip gyrations. Gripping her hips tightly, he quickened his pace and she rolled her hips frantically to match his movements as her pleasure built rapidly.

Short breaths and soft moans filled the air as her bodies maintained her steady rhythm, their bare chests and slick skin gliding effortlessly over one another. She bit down on his neck as the pleasure crashed over her, causing him to grunt in pain and bury his face in the crook of her neck as her body began trembling against him and he kept his thrusts steady in an effort to help her ride out her high.

She fluttered her eyelids rapidly as her vision became hazy, her jaw going slack as the combination of heat and tingles coursing through her veins left her utterly speechless. It crashed over her, leaving her unable to breathe as the haze slowly cleared. He came shortly after, spilling his warmth within her walls as he whispered obscenities into her ear, a habit that somehow always made she feel instantly comfortable. She stayed wrapped against him for a moment, slowly loosening her muscles so her fingers were no longer digging into his shoulder blades as the both of them attempted to slow their breathing back to normal.

He laughed lightly and she felt it reverberate through her entire body as he turned his head to the side and pressed a soft kiss to her sweat dampened hair, whispering, "You're great."

Puckering her lips, she pressed a kiss to his shoulder as she unlocked her legs from his waist and slowly slid them to the floor. Once she found her footing, she straightened her legs and pulled up her underwear before smoothing her skirt down over her thighs.

"Better?" Stiles asked smugly as he reached down to pull up his boxers and sweatpants.

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the smile that stretched her lips. As always, Stiles had left she feeling completely satiated. Her body already felt warm and tingly and she could feel her muscles relaxing as she spoke, hiking up the straps of her bra and reaching down to adjust her boobs within the padded cups. "Much, but you owe me a shirt."

He grimaced as he looked around and noticed the buttons scattered on the hardwood floor and shot her an apologetic gaze. "Sorry, you know I get into the moment."

"It's alright," Lydia laughed as she bent down to retrieve her heels, holding them on her hooked fingers when she pulled them off the floor, her work shirt, now lacking buttons, hanging open atop her pencil skirt. "Can we curl up on the couch and watch movies for the rest of the night? I'm in the mood for something light and funny."

Stiles's smile widened, his eyes bright as he shrugged on his hoodie and zipped it up halfway, leaving part of his chest deliciously exposed. "Sounds perfect. Come on, you can borrow some of my clothes."

Shooting him a grateful smile, she followed him to the bedroom, watching him dig through his meticulously organized chest of drawers, and gratefully accepted his offering of an oversized lacrosse t-shirt and loose sweatpants. With a wink and a smirk, he left her to change, returning to the kitchen to make microwave popcorn in preparation for their movie night.

As she stripped out of the work clothes she still had on, she found herself thankful that her relationship with Stiles remained one of friendship. It was true that she loved him; she always would, but not in the way he deserved. Her feelings for him were far from romantic, and although she enjoyed the sex, she could never give herself to him fully in regards to her emotions; not in the way he would want from a girlfriend.

She had no doubt that one day Stiles, one of the most wonderful human beings she knew, would find a woman who would love him for more than just his skills in the bedroom. And when that day came she would, however bittersweet it may be, step aside and happily watch him go on with his life. Until then, she was content with her perfectly not normal relationship.


End file.
